I know I hadn't written anything in the longest time, I've been working on and off on Frozen Tundra and United Front.

However, my school's literary journal did ask for submissions last semester and I knocked up this story pretty quick. It's not my best, but it'll keep you guys busy for now.

'Ranger

Rooftop Runaway

It was absolutely silent outside. The only sound that could be heard was the low drone of a high-orbiting news helicopter thousands of feet in the air. Bright rays of moonlight cut through the closed blinds of the safe-room's windows, landing safely on Devon Smith's face. Several days had passes since he had a good sleep, but he could not let his guard down. They were out there. And they were waiting.

Rachel had fallen asleep about an hour ago with the barrel of her machine gun still poised on the barred door that kept then safe. The bangs of her brown hair were draped over the stock of the weapon, her head lolled in deep sleep. Devon had found Rachel and her friend Lawrence several safe-houses back. They had decided to stick together on their trek to the evacuation center in Lancaster Mall, but there had been no transmissions for two days straight.

The twenty-three year old Lawrence, an army ROTC graduate from IU Bloomington, had been working all night on the radio and was still sitting near the desk by the window. Turning dials and fiddling with wires, he held the headphones to his ear, shaking his head ominously with each adjustment. An assault rifle was sitting idly by him... Lawrence tapped it nervously... For several long and drawn-out minutes, he persisted with it until it was obvious there was no point in continuing. The young man woke up Rachel and motioned for Devon to listen. "It's a cycled recording. I'm not sure if anyone is still alive in the mall or not," There was a long pause. "However, I did manage to get a hold of that helicopter pilot, but we have to hurry. We're meeting him at the hospital's rooftop. He only has two hours of fuel left before he has to return to the safe zone."

All three of them turned their heads to the door, simultaneously getting up as quietly as possible. Rachel took her machine gun and checked the feed, un-holstering her pistol and slipping in a fresh magazine when she was through. Devon felt somewhat out of the loop watching the two of them arm themselves. It appeared that they knew something he didn't. A shotgun was lying unused on a nearby computer table, he grabbed it. "It feels like you guys aren't telling me something important. Could I please know what's going on here?"

Rachel tossed the former office accountant several boxes of shotgun ammo. Devon stuffed them into his backpack, taking a handful and beginning to load his weapon. Peeking quickly out of the office room window, Rachel whispered to him. "The military quarantine begins early tomorrow morning." Lawrence threw his rifle over his shoulder and unbarred the door. She took a step outside and quietly motioned for them to follow. "That quarantine means no one in, no one out. We'll be stuck here if we miss this copter."

Lawrence and Rachel were always so collected when their feet left the safe-house. It was obvious that the two of them had extensive experience, trekking cautiously on the cubicle laced floor of the business building. The interior of the building looked disastrous. In the initial panic, people simply got up and left leaving all matter of material spread across the carpet from pens to computer chairs. A dead body lay near the open door to the staircase, partially dismembered and in a grotesque puddle of blood. Devon gagged at the sight and smell of gore.

There never really was any full, publicized explanation of what had started all this, only rumors. Somewhere in Pennsylvania, a research company called New Horizons Biotechnical was working on some kind of super cure. A form of white blood cell that fought off every type of disease and it worked... at first. Several weeks later, the 57 patients were recalled and detained against their will. Public outcry eventually led to their release, and the beginning of the infection...

The trio worked their way up the stairs to the top floor. This wasn't Lawrence's first time in Santa Clara. He'd been here on more than one occasion and knew that it was possible to jump from one rooftop to the other, seeing as the distances were rather short. Right now, they were in the eight-story Castle Insurance Building, approximately three blocks from the hospital. It shouldn't take too long to get there, given no major obstacles.

The roof access door was shut. Lawrence poised his assault rifle forward an put his hand on the door knob. Before he had opened it, he turned around to make sure Rachel and Devon were ready. The door flew up open with a metallic clank and the three survivors ran out poised for a fight. Luckily for them, it was completely devoid of life, the remainders of a last stand were strewn all over.

A dead survivor, spattered in blood lay next to a table of supplies. Lawrence picked up an automatic shotgun off of it and tossed it to Devon. "Use this instead of that Remington." The office accountant took it without question, dumping his 20-guage for the heavier ammo of the other.

Suddenly, the chatter of a machine gun startled him into a jump. He turned around just in time to see a zombie stumbling and falling to his feet. Rachel's gun had smoke trailing from its barrel. "Dude, you really need to learn to watch your back."

"Won't the gunfire attract more of 'em?"

She shook her head. "Nope, I know it sounds weird, but Lawrence and I figured that they're only attracted to high pitched noises."

"Come on, guys. We don't have time to stick around and chat."

The news helicopter flew over them, heading straight for the hospital. A plank of plywood led to the next roof. Again, they were greeted by a gruesome scene of carnage and gore. More dead survivors. Were there any other people alive besides themselves? How could it be possible that only three people were able to survive?

Lawrence and Rachel started across the roof. Lawrence went first, jumping across the four-foot gap in-between the two buildings, Rachel was second. Devon was too nervous to go, but after several words of encouragement and that he might die alone and by himself, he gathered up enough composure to make a jump, although not exactly graceful.

Rachel helped him up and the two of them joined Lawrence who was looking at the hospital one block away. "Wow, we're almost there..." Devon said with a relaxed sigh.

The army officer shook his head. "Not quite... We'll have to go the rest of the way by foot. I know the army set up a couple of safe houses along the way. We can use those to rest and rearm."

"Sounds like a plan."

"We're burning precious time. We need to move."

The silence was eerie. Getting to the street was easy and following the lighted rooftop of the hospital was going to be simple. Or so Devon had thought. In the blink of an eye something flew through the air and he wasn't exactly sure what it was until it landed right on top of Rachel. It was a zombie.

As fast as he possibly could, Devon pulled up his shotgun and pumped four 12-guage rounds into it knocking him off of Rachel and into a nearby car. Suddenly that high-pitched whine of a car alarm went off followed by the screams of the infected.

Rachel quickly jumped to her feet and grabbed his arm. "Remember those noises they're attracted to? Alarms would be one of them!" They stood in silence, watching diligently until they saw a car fly into the air.

Lawrence cursed underneath his breath. "Tank..."

"Run or shoot?" Devon asked, panicking. "Run or shoot!"

Rachel brought up her machine gun to fire and yelled. "Both!"

They ran as fast as they possibly could, a horde of the infected following quickly behind. At the head of the pack was a giant, monstrous thing that looked like a gigantic human. Whatever it was, it was tossing cars and making craters in the street. They had to get away, and fast...

Lawrence passed into an alleyway and they followed, "Quick! Up the fire escape, now!"

Devon didn't have to think twice. He went up first and Rachel soon followed with Lawrence on the ground firing his assault rifle into the incoming mob of zombies. Once the pair of them reached the roof, they fired down to give Lawrence some cover-fire as he climbed up. The tank was close and it was almost on top of him.

The fire escape creaked with the weight and finally gave way, breaking off of the brick and in a thunderous orchestra of bending metal.

Lawrence threw his arm up and Rachel caught it. Together, she and Devon pulled him up and onto the roof. Exhausted, they sat up against a nearby wall. "Wow, I can't believe we made it!"

"Made it?" Lawrence chuckled. "Dude, we just crossed a block."